The Call
by AutumnsWhisperer
Summary: The bare plains of his chest became visible and the barely outlined tattoo she knew would be engraved on his backside that flexed with every, taught muscle when he walked. Details. All intricate details she knew too well as he appeared before her once more. Oh god... maybe I am crazy. "Shane…"


**A/N** : I love the Lost Boys, truly I do. While the tribe was okay I was disappointed at the lack of character building so I spun my own take on it with Nicole not so Mary Sue. As any reader who has followed my stories know I am not exactly a fan of the paper doll Mary Sues, I'm just… not.

Let's be honest the Lost Boy: The Tribe story line pretty much sucked. They could've had more depth, more backstory, but in the end it fell flat. It's not nearly as good as the original. But the kudos I will give is Angus Sutherland as Shane because I think he did a pretty good job as did his brother when he portrayed David. Autumn Reeser Ii can honestly say made me gag because she was a typical damsel and her acting ability for such a movie was poor. So I spun my own character and I hope she does the story more justice.

Enjoy and feel free to lend me your thoughts this was fun to write!:)

* * *

 **THE CALL**

" _Taste of death_

 _I've tasted_

 _Taken on_

 _And resurrected from."_

 **T** he thought of him was there. She couldn't help it. He passed like a shadow in her mind and those eyes, those eyes still held her suspended in that single moment from when he'd emerged from the crowd. A memory.

Once, he'd been unlike anyone she'd ever known. Dangerous. Feral. Powerful. She'd been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Something about him had pulled her in; a presence he'd possessed that intrigued her of unknown knowledge.

From the pad of his fingertips that had once drifted down her skin from the muscle of his hands, there had held a promise of more. She just hadn't known the circumference of that promise until she'd been kissed with death.

The hours after the consummation of immortality would strengthen when she'd stood there and breathed again in Aunt Jillians guest house. The walls had felt suffocating. The very space in which she'd stood felt tight. And inside, an unquenchable fire had burned through the recesses of her lungs. It had been hard to breathe; she'd just _needed_. That very wanting would nearly cost a life and snatch her very soul to be owned by the one who'd captivated her in a seduction that had first been portrayed the night of the party.

Sometimes, it felt like yesterday. But in reality it had taken place nearly two years ago, today. It was as she stood there and faced a similar window that overlooked the bay, a deja vu. The pad of her fingertips traced the cool glass that separated her from the darkness sprinkled with a billion stars. Night had never been the same for her, since. It wasn't just another passing of day when it came to the fall of evening. It was an essence riddled with secrets and mysteries few human beings would ever encounter unlike her family.

 _He is dead…_

She watched as her breath gradually faded from the smooth pane. Moonlight filtered through the lacy curtains of her window having awoken her from a dead sleep at the gentle caress of wind that had slipped through.

 _We watched him both die…_

Two years had since passed from when he'd reigned in Santa Carla. The lust, the intrigue she'd once had for him had disintegrated into a form of resentment the moment he'd tried to kill her brother. Then he'd tried to kill her for disobeying in her refusal to feed on another when she'd once been… a vampire.

The nightmares that consisted of him had yet to cease. _They're just figments from memories._ But, lately she was really beginning to question even that. Were they really? She hadn't yet told her brother, Chris, who'd started up a surfing shop with Edgar Frog and lived above the residence with the weird guy. Did she mention the presence she'd begun to feel within the last few months? She wasn't crazy. What she'd started to feel had built up from a progression that had taken place over time. It had started out gradual; a brush of a leaf beside her, an abrupt spark of a candle, and a flicker of a touch that had left her nearly an insomniac for weeks. It hadn't come again but what now seemed to be increasing was worse. A presence she felt around her was growing.

 _It's just leftover from before, nothing thereafter. No feelings... No..._

Her lip pulled down in a grimace at the thought of their bodies once having been entwined. One, single night it had taken for her to be tricked into drinking from his goblet. It had turned her into the inhumane, seductive creature she'd become and still left an uneasy feeling. She'd craved him like a desert vagrant parched for just a drop of water. To her he'd been Master, addicted to his ministrations and the sensual aspects he'd guide her into.

 _I will never allow myself to be that way again._

She closed her eyes against the shadow that was there always lying in wait on the edge of her subconscious. It was there like a taunting waiting for her to reminisce down memory lane.

 _NO._

Think.

 _Exhale._

She'd done so well for herself, known for more than just a pretty face. To gain her own independence she'd broken away from the shadow of her brother and from men in general. By taking the necessary steps to stand on her own she'd found a job with moderate pay and enrolled into school. It had caused her short relations with Kyle with whom she'd first encountered at the surf shop and nearly eaten, to fizzle out. It had ended on a decent note with the man having become close friends with her brother. Shortly after they'd easily slipped into the role of casual friends.

Still, she made sure to keep a good distance from them by having purchased an apartment farther down the coast. Especially away from the deteriorating mind of her Aunt Jillian. Lord knew the woman was slightly off her rocker. Because she was the only family left, at her aunt's consistent behest, she'd succumbed to the occasional movie marathons. It was where she'd learned even more weird behavior from her aunt. The woman was a clear junkie stuck in the prime of the 80's that filled the void of romance in her life by the predictable, poorly-acted soap operas.

After everything she'd been through she hadn't allowed herself to fall to such measures. Instead of staying holed up in a hovel, she'd taken up waitressing down at the marina to garner tuition for her upcoming semester at Santa Carlas University. Recently she'd been in debates of picking up a second job a few times a night at the fair for chump change. With the summer wide carnivals in full swing she'd already accumulated a generous amount in savings. Ever since she'd touched the supernatural realm her mind had a canvas of dark qualities that gave an edge to literary writing. Her thoughts were always riddled with vivid images that had quickly filled the pages of her notebooks with snippets of her own story—now displayed on Microsoft Word on her labtop.

Now she wanted to become a writer with a degree.

 _Although right now I feel like my minds too much of a mess._

"Maybe the beach will help." The beach was where she felt most at peace. It was where the waves could kiss her toes with their chilled touch and leave her relaxed to the sound of the receding tides. Chris would still be at the shop with Edgar so he wouldn't bother her. Since he'd seen her capability of taking care of herself he'd backed a bit on his possessive qualities. For that she was grateful. No longer did she feel as if he were babying her into suffocation.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to honey-colored orbs that reflected back at her from the pane of glass. Long, beached waves bleached from the rays of the California sun framed her face dusted of freckles that nearly blended into the sun-kissed skin. The nametag: _Arnies Harbor_ was still pinned to the mint polo she'd acquired from employment. The tan khakis shorts much to her reluctance, hung off her frame over muscled toned legs she'd obtained after countless late night runs in the wake of her never-ending nightmares.

 _I just want it to stop._

She wasn't the same girl anymore; so gullible to the opposite sex. With her wit strong and the cheek of her tongue sharp any unsuspecting males-particularly at work-was deterred of their intents. After healthily coping with the loss of her parents and nearly losing her soul, integrity had been gained as well as self-respect in which a self-defense course had been taken on. Always on her guard and aware as she'd been taught, she steered clear of any tall, blonde, or handsome strangers that crossed.

To think how much of a helpless doe she'd once been to that said tall, pale blonde stranger still disgusted her. Those eyes, those piercing eyes. They still—

"Nicole…"

"Huh!" The breath rushed out of her lungs as Nicole whirled around. That voice. It was back. Their breath was like a whisper along the nape of her neck.

 _Always there._

She shook her head, swallowing hard as she steeled herself. "No, I'm not crazy. This isn't real." This was a game he had to be playing in the afterlife. How she didn't know. She'd hoped for Hell. Apparently he'd evaded such a sentence to torment her instead. It was _his_ presence she felt and it was only increasing in strength. But still, how was that possible? She'd thrown off his jacket and watched it burn into a fiery ember that had severed all ties leaving the last of his voice from their underground haven to dissipate.

 _Two years. Two years ago._

"You're not real." She made sure her voice was firm, eyes fixed on every shadow in her small studio apartment that looked unsuspecting. "Go away."

"Come… find me, Nicole where I wait…"

The voice was like a cool caress against her skin.

Nicole smacked it away backing up into the window with a shake of her head. Panic began to crawl its way into her flesh as two piercing, unfathomable eyes abruptly appeared, staring from the framed mirror of the entryway. Slowly, their broad, towering form took shape as muscled hands extended, pressing up against the silvery panel. A strand of their bleached hair brushed against full sensuous lips that curved into a grin as Nicole gasped.

 _No…_

She shoved down the bile that rose from the pit of her stomach. He wouldn't get the satisfaction no matter what conjured this solidified imagination yet again. "You can't… you died… I s-saw…"

 _No he's not real, Nicole, stop it!_

"Nicole…" Their voice. It had taken on a symphonic quality that could stretch to her, around her, encompassing her in the longing she could feel within its echo. "Say it, let me hear you say it… Nicole."

 _Don't let this get to you let it go, now!_

Nicole swallowed. Once more she lifted her chin trying to find strength to draw from as she had so many times before. The bare plains of his chest became visible and the barely outlined tattoo she knew would be engraved on his backside that flexed with every, taught muscle when he walked. Details. All intricate details she knew too well as he appeared before her once more.

 _Oh god... maybe I am crazy._

"Shane…"


End file.
